


Buzzkill

by powerdragonmoon



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Based off Karawek's Fanart, Bee!Chloe, Enemies, F/M, Hatesquare, Peacock!Nathanäel, enemies au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2018-09-21 15:12:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9554147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/powerdragonmoon/pseuds/powerdragonmoon
Summary: Nathanael had never envisioned himself in this position…perched so high above the City of Paris. Generally, in his comics, Nathanael had always was drawn himself out to be the hero of the story—not the villain.Now, with the power of the Peacock Miraculous, Nathanael has taken up the mantle of Le Paon. His task: to retrieve the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculouses.However now, all that stands between him and his goal is another Miraculous holder…





	1. Wings and Halos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blame Karawek for this. A drabble Chlonath Enemies AU… enjoy!

Le Paon grunted, dodging Queen Bee’s incoming blows. Her fist sailed past him, slashing through the air where,  just  seconds ago, he had stood.  The quick movement caused his hair to fan out, and he watched as her fist  barely  touched his red-orange tresses.

Standing tall he took a few fast, calculated steps back, trying to buy himself time to break out his fan, but before he could reach for it, Queen Bee had already jumped forward, fists raised.

He blocked the first punch with his forearm, baring his teeth out in annoyance. She was such a pest.

The second punch he wasn’t quite ready for.

Her fist connected with his gut, forcing the air out of his lungs. Le Paon gasped, the pain being multiplied by her triumphant smirk. It made him more and more angry.

He stumbled backwards. Panting, he wrapped an arm across his midsection, as he doubled over. 

“Give it up,” she spoke, her voice harsh and serious. Queen Bee straightened up, placing her hands on her hips. Her steely, light, blue eyes narrowed at him. The feeling of righteousness and success ebbed off her being. With a shake of her head, she flicked her long blonde hair over her shoulder.  The black antennae sticking up from her hairband bounced  lightly  along with the movement.

But deep down, Le Paon could see past her overconfidence. He saw the truth.

“Ha,” he spat, “you’d like that wouldn’t you.”

She huffed, looking at him as if he were dense. “Yeah, duh,” she replied. She held her hands out in front of her, signalling the obviousness of his statement. After months of continued fighting, of course she wanted this to end. She had had it up to here with his face, his dumb costume, his punches, and of course his threats towards Ladybug.

“Plus,” she continued, raising a hand to inspect her gloved hand, “if you’d  just  stop and realize you’re wrong… it’d  really  save me the trouble of having to touch-up my manicure after I’m through beating you up.” She smirked at him, raising her fists up once more.

“Like I give a damn about your stupid nails,” Le Paon chuckled darkly. He took a brief glance over to the other side of the city, where he knew Ladybug and Chat Noir were fighting the latest akuma. He should be there, but once again this pseudo-hero was in his way.

Le Paon pursed his lips, glancing back to Queen Bee’s advancing form. Bending his knees, he readied himself for her incoming attack.

She leapt forward, aided by her flying abilities,  easily  doing a front flip. Her leg popped out mid-roll to aim a direct kick towards him on her descent. Le Paon dodged left, evading the move.

Determined, Queen Bee arose from her crouched position, turning to face Le Paon’s elbow.

She ducked, but he pressed on. Pivoting, he swung his left fist at her and on they went exchanging punch for punch, taunt for taunt.

“I will end you, Bee.” Le Paon growled, side stepping to avoid her incoming slew of attacks.

“Oh right…” she replied. “Cause you’ve been so successful so far.”

Queen Bee emphasized this point with a knee to his gut. He ignored the pain, pushing down the burning anger in his chest. He had to focus. In the back of his head he could hear the whispers of wings telling him to stay in control. “Focus," the shadows said. “Listen.”

He breathed.

And then he watched.

She continued on, fists flying. “Give it up! Can’t you see that you’re fighting for the wrong side?”

Stepping well out of her reach, he taunted her. He crossed his arms to stand tall, as if unfazed by her continued advances. He breathed in deep, absorbing her frustrations, and breathed out. His own face was cold and unfeeling as he stared at her.

She glared, continuing her appeal, “Aren’t you tired? Why are you doing this?”

Queen Bee moved forward, tentative steps until she was right in front of him. He stared down at her with no reaction, making no move to respond.

With a shaky hand she reached forward. Until her black-gloved hand reseted against his forearm. He stayed still, a small smirk growing on his face. He could feel her nerves; he could see what she was trying to do.

Moving ever so more closer, Queen Bee’s hand moved up his chest. The movement temporarily clouded his read of her. Like a mist fogging his sight, her hesitation obscured her determination…a determination that seemed to set his heart to beat faster. He pushed away the thought, focusing on his breathing, awaiting her next move.  

“The Miraculous are meant to be used for good,” she went on, her voice more hushed and gentle. “We don’t have to fight.”  

And at this, he chuckled, the sound coming out dark and uncaring. He had already listened long enough to her many appeals, her speeches that sounded like plagiarized variations of Ladybug’s own famous passionate words. Her calls for justice, for peace, seemed tainted by her own insecurities and hesitance. It was something that led him to pause, hoping to expose them, each and every weakness, until her real feelings were free and raw. She would speak of mercy, offering him a chance to change sides. All it led to was Le Paon rolling his eyes, before continuing on with their many battles.

Tonight it was  just  the same.  An akuma was attacking the City of Paris and Le Paon was on the hunt for Ladybug and Chat Noir…only to  be interrupted  once again by Queen Bee.

Her hand continued up the plane of his chest, as it rose and fell with each passing breath. They continued to hold each other’s eyes. Her blue eyes stared deep into his unnatural pink ones.

And then he saw it, the spark and glimmer in her eye that went hand in hand with the flare of deceit in the air. Her hand flexed, reaching towards the Miraculous at his neck—

He caught her wrist with his hand. She flinched.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he taunted, hand tightening painfully around her wrist.

She snarled, reaching back with her other hand to strike him. He twisted, bringing her trapped arm behind her back.

“Did you really think it would be that easy, Bee?” he asked with a soft whisper. His mouth was so close to her ear, and his breath ghosted against her neck. 

The flash of panic and desperation emanating from her washed over Le Paon. It overwhelmed his senses for a moment. Her upper body moved forward, and  just  as  quickly  she reeled back. The back of her head landing a harsh strike against his face.

Reflexively, he let go of her, pain radiating across his nose. He snarled, lips licking across his mouth and tasting blood.

Queen Bee jumped out of his reach, herself needing time to recover. She rubbed at her wrist, a grimace on her face.

A grimace that he returned as he wiped a hand across his mouth.

After a beat, they both launched forward, fists raised. And on the fight went.

But Le Paon seemed more on the defensive, evading Queen Bee’s continued attacks, saving his energy. He felt the air on his skin, listened to the song of scepticism emanating from her being. He saw the truth. He saw her fear.

Still,  in between  punches and kicks, Queen Bee continued her prattling.  Her breath grew heavier with each missed swing, “He’s using you—just  like all those poor people he akumatizes…you realize that right ?”

He smiled, baring his teeth, watching her frustration become more and more apparent across her features.

Huffing, she went on, spinning into a graceful—but not fast enough lunge, her sharp elbow brushing his shoulder as he dodged.

She made a sound of annoyance; he could feel her anger on her breath. She was so close. “Hawk Moth,” she hissed through gritted teeth, “is a _monster_.”

A bolt of anger crashed through him at the mention of the name. Just thinking about him, with Queen Bee—the main source of his failure—in front of him, further sparked his fury. It grabbed at the spaces in his lungs, making his chest heave and eyes burn. For a moment his fuchsia eyes flashed red.

And in her flare for dramatics, Queen Bee had left herself vulnerable; she was too close, too distracted in her own anger, an anger he seemed to feed off from. And Le Paon took advantage of it. He reached out. His left hand wrapped around her neck. He felt her gasp, a quick intake of breath, as her eyes widened in surprise.

He stared deep into her light blue eyes, watching—and feeling—the burst of emotions running across her face. He smiled, listening to the rasp of her breath as his hand tightened around her throat. Her hands reached up, her nails digging in desperation to free herself. He could feel the beat of her fear drown over her hatred and he basked in it.

“Oh no, Honey,” he whispered menacingly, causing her to pause and stare up at him as he leaned in closer. “ _I’m the monster._ ” 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SERIOUSLY HAVE YOU SEEN THIS!?!?!
> 
> http://karawek.tumblr.com/post/156681130853/note-to-self-draw-more-nathana%C3%ABl-and-chloe
> 
> Just do yourself a favour and immerse yourself in the beauty that is Kara and her beautiful beautiful art and AUs! And another person to be held responsible would be limerencemoon for the perfect request! Amazing!
> 
> Have questions? Leave a comment :D 
> 
> I have a fairly lengthy headcanon post that may help you understand what's happening here…come bother me on tumblr :3
> 
> http://powerdragonmoon.tumblr.com/post/156766007651


	2. Sink or Swim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathanael develops a bit of a cough, poor boy. Hope he’s not getting sick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got some motivation from Ming85 and all the lovely comments! Plus little miss Karawek is back from her trip!! SO HERE’S A WELCOME HOME PRESENT LOVELY!! Thank you all! Hope you enjoy this next installment of Buzzkill!

He awoke gasping for air, the feeling of drowning sunk into his being and his body gagged in response. His throat constricted as he coughed to clear his airways. Bent over on the ground on all fours, Nathanael blinked. A sickeningly familiar and sweet scent came off the sticky substance he was currently doused in.

Reaching up, he smeared the honey from his eyes, quickly becoming aware that his hands were gloveless. He was not transformed.

Without even having to look up, he immediately knew where he was. Nearby, he could hear the faint sounds of fluttering wings and a great, looming shadow was cast over his sprawled form. Still taking in fast, desperate breaths, he ignored the ominous figure in front of him.

Instead he simply unclipped the brooch on his chest. Pocketing the blue-green pin with care, he stared at the ground, chest heaving. His mind and body ached, and even worse he felt the crawling itch of something creeping within him. He could feel it, lurking in his system, a virus travelling in his bloodstream. Its thrashing wings beat in time with his throbbing heart.

Exhausted and frustrated, there was nothing for him to do but lean forward. He rested his head against his forearm on the ground, his hair flopping in wet, matted pieces to his skin. He could feel his stomach churn, but he ignored it, refusing to acknowledge it. To distract himself, he glanced around. The flickering lights in the room making it hard to find what—or who—he was looking for.

A small blue bundle lay beneath him.

_Duusu._

The creature blinked her big pink eyes as she looked up at him with a confused frown.

The dot on her forehead bloomed, blushing across the space between her eyes. Nathanael felt a flash of discomfort and irritation. Her tail slowly unwrapped around her tiny form, fanning out in odd twitchy movements, attempting to rid herself of the honey that had stained her feathers.

She continued to stare up at him, narrowed pink eyes roving over the sticky sap dripping off his form. As she took in his expression, the dot on her forehead shrank, until it was just her eyes that glowed eerily in the darkness. Still trembling slightly, he could feel her aggravation melting into a forced warmth that she directed outwards, trying to fill the void of the cold, empty room.

He coughed up more honey.

He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the gesture. In the back of his head the shadows flared. He could feel her trying to stop them, a bright light of artificial happiness trying to illumine the corners of his mind. It was blinding.

“Duusu, stop it,” he grunted, clearing his throat.

In response he heard her give a quiet whimper, followed by a small screech. With it, burst a multitude of emotions, emotions that Nathanael did not need. He growled and just like that they tempered slightly.

A harsh knock on the floor echoed off the domed walls and a deep voice filled the room. “You feel too much, boy,” said the voice. “And it is clouding your judgement. She almost had you.”

Spitting onto the ground Nathanael didn’t even bother looking up. His free hand fisted against the cold floor. He resisted the urge to punch it.

He thought back to earlier that night.

He was so close. He had her.

He remembers his hand around her throat, watching her gasping for breath.

Through gritted teeth, Nathanael replied. “No, _I almost had her_.”

He thought back. Blinking out the clouds fogging of his memory, Nathanael saw Le Paon’s gloved hand flexed around her neck.

And for a few drawn out, silent beats, Le Paon and Queen Bee had simply stared into each other’s eyes. Her blue eyes opened wide and watering under the strain, while he simply watched, his pink eyes gleaming in delight. Nathanael remembers himself as Le Paon, smirking, feeling a surge of confidence from her despair. From it, he was able to stand taller, lifting her from the ground until her feet dangled in the air.

But he also remembers her panic, her desperation, her fear…as he reached forward with his free hand to grab at her ponytail, to relieve her of her miraculous. With the movement, every feeling in the air amplified tenfold. What once had fuelled him, had once again overloaded his mind. It pounded in his head, affecting his whole body. He felt her buzzing in his brain, an irritating sorrow that caused his limbs to shake. Beyond her obvious grief and disappointment lurked her own acceptance, her own self-consciousness, and…guilt? Her body became suddenly heavy, weighing him down.

He had faltered, for the briefest of moments, and it was more than enough for her to turn the tables to her favour.

_He had almost had her…_

A sharp weight jabbed him in the back, pushing him against the ground.

“Is that so?” The deep voice questioned.

The weight lifted for a moment, before promptly coming back down, striking Nathanael down once more, this time much more harshly. He groaned against the hit, sending him back into a coughing fit.

Without any sense of a reaction, Hawk Moth stared down at him. “Next time I’ll leave you to drown then,” he said.

He couldn’t remember the butterfly but he could feel it still within him. It was a ghost in his veins. The memory of how he got from the rooftops of Paris into this secret hideout eluded him. All he could remember was suddenly becoming overpowered in the fight with Queen Bee and the splash of honey nectar choking him.

And then there was nothing.

He awoke to the cold darkness of this all too familiar room, with the muscles in his body aching and his head pounding.

He felt awful.

And this was not the first time…nor did he expect it to be the last, no matter how much he prayed and begged for it.

And so Nathanael grunted in response, his anger drummed, beating along with the ache in his head.It sent him into his automatic response to be defiant, to show Hawk Moth that he didn’t have his respect. Therefore, he didn't think of the consequences. He chuckled under his breath. And before he could even think through his reply or stop the words from leaving his mouth, he spoke up, “I’d prefer it over those stupid cockroaches of—”

Another thwack to his back took the air from his lungs. He took the hit, trying his best not to collapse to the floor and crush Duusu beneath him.

“Enough!” the voice bellowed. And Nathanael looked up into the cold eyes of Hawk Moth staring down at him.

The villain stood tall in front of him, his face obscured by his silver mask. Dressed in a deep purple suit, Hawk Moth held his cane in both hands. His voice was loud and commanding, his face set into a stern grimace. While the combination of the two gave off the clear air of rage, Nathanael could feel nothing from the man. He was a void.

Hawk Moth continued with his harsh tone, “As much as I appreciate you bowing down before me, I brought you here for a reason, boy.” He nudged Nathanael again with his cane. “Get up!”

Nathanael glared up at him in response. Slowly, he rose to kneel on his knees. He brought Duusu up to his shoulder. She was so small and easily fit in the palm of his hand. Without a word, the bird-like creature crawled up, settling into the collar of his jacket. Sparkles of her tears flashed in the space she had just filled, before dissolving into the air.

As commanded, Nathanael slowly stood up, his face contorting into a pained scowl. He could already feel the unpleasant stiffness in his muscles and the tenderness on his skin that would surely flourish into purple bruises in no time.

He could feel Duusu’s tears wetting his shirt.  Her shaky, little hands moved in what he assumed  were meant  to be soothing motions at his collarbone, as if it would temper his displeasure.

It didn’t.

Somewhat hunched over, he stood in front of Hawk Moth. In the short silence, the two shared a narrowed glare. Cold, unfeeling, blue against angry turquoise.

Hawk Moth brought his cane back to rest in front of him; it knocked against the floor once more. Nathanael kept himself from flinching at the sound, but internally he was seething. With a shake of his head, the villain frowned.

“You feel too much,” Hawk Moth repeated. “It makes you vulnerable.”

Nathanael rolled his eyes. He had already heard this more than once before. And he did not appreciate being summoned into some lame super villain lair, like a dog on some sort of short leash. His blood boiled.

Hawk Moth’s eyes bore into him, scrutinizing each and every detail. He paused for a mere moment before continuing, “You must be in control. You cannot let yourself get distracted by the your own emotions…or those of someone else.”

In the short pause, Nathanael chewed on the inside of his cheek. If he was transformed, he was sure his eyes would be red in this moment. He huffed out a breath of exhaustion and it reminded him that he was at a disadvantage, untransformed, and weak. Nevertheless, his anger spurred him on to another act of rebelliousness.

“Oh,” he scoffed, shaking his head, his voice dripping in spite and sarcasm, “is that how you justify making children into monsters?”

He didn’t even have time to register the strike across his face.

His face turned with the momentum, sending his weak body falling backwards towards the ground. Landing indelicately onto his side, he propped himself on an elbow, bringing a hand to his face.

It stung.

His anger reverberated within him. His whole body was on fire.

He could feel Duusu gripping his collar. If possible, her anger seemed to outmatch his own.

An empty sigh called out from above him, Hawk Moth stared down at him, his cane  nonchalantly  tucked under an arm. He readjusted his gloves and sleeves.

“I have had enough…” he began. “If you cannot control your powers, then I will simply take them away.”

Hawk Moth reached out with a gloved hand.

Nathanael recoiled; his hand instinctively went to the pocket of his jacket. Eyes blown wide, he cradled his Miraculous protectively, ensuring it was still where he had placed it.

“No! No, I—I,” he sputtered, his legs kicked at the ground, desperate to increase the distance between himself and Hawk Moth. He coughed, “No, I can do it. I will beat her. I’ll get them. I can do it.“

Hawk Moth, smiled, a tight closed mouth sneer that stretched unnaturally across his face. “Hmmm,” he hummed.“To do that, you need to listen to me. Emotions are a weakness, do not let it become yours.”

Nathanael nodded; trying his best to rein his anger, to hide behind a cold, unfeeling mask, much like Hawk Moth.

“Very well,” Hawk Moth continued, bringing his hand out in front of him, palm up, “I’ve had enough of this…”

From the corner of the room, the sounds of fluttering wings increased.

Instantly, panic arose within Nathanael, crashing through any attempt to uphold a sense of apathy. Instead the flames of his anger frosted over, a frosty stampede of unease that set him on edge.

A single, bright butterfly lit up the room, advancing towards Hawk Moth’s open hand.

“NO!” Nathanael shouted, his voice echoing off the lair’s walls. From around the room the fluttering noise intensified. Dormant butterflies awoke from all around rising into the air. The winged creatures took flight, lighting up the entire room and casting an eerie blue light across Nathanael’s paled face.

“No, please, not again,” he pleaded, watching in horror as the advancing butterfly landed on Hawk Moth’s hand. He could hear Duusu’s small whimper as she floated down into his pocket, shielding the Miraculous.

“Perhaps this will teach you,” Hawk Moth smiled, bringing his hands together around the alighted butterfly. Spurts of dark energy gathered in the air, quickly absorbed into the insect until it was painted black, flashing stripes of luminous purple.

Shaking his head, Nathanael could feel his skin crawling. He stared at the akuma in front of him, eyes wide in horror. “No,” he pleaded, “P-please… I can do it, I swear.”

“Good,” replied Hawkmoth. “It would do you good to remember our arrangement.”

He opened his palm; the trapped akuma flapped its wings. Such a small, beautiful creature, that struck Nathanael with fear and frenzy. One small, shining light of optimism within him, told Nathanael that he could overcome it, that he could keep himself in control this time. But the thought was quickly suppressed by the building anxiety within him.

“Until then,” Hawk Moth continued, “if you cannot control your emotions…”

The akuma fluttered towards him. And Hawk Moth smiled, baring his teeth in a menacing grimace.

“Then I will control them for you.”

Everything went black.

And then there was nothing.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥᷄⌓˂̣̣̥᷅ )‧º·˚ I have a lot of feelings about Nath and my new birb daughter, Duusu, I hope you liked the little glimpse of her in this chapter! 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed reading!!


	3. The Painted Burden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some moments of introspection and discovery for Le Paon during one of his first outings. A test of new powers soon becomes a test of will.

Le Paon flew across the city for what must have been the third time that week, remaining hidden in the darkness and shadows. New to this life of magic and superpowers, he wavered on each step, still unsure of how to move and unable to completely trust the powers of the Peacock Miraculous. Behind him, the wide tail of his suit flared, manipulating gravity and giving him a brief feeling of flight before he settled onto the next rooftop. His three-piece suit, while at first glance did not seem to be the most appropriate attire for such midnight ventures, was actually quite flexible to his needs. Its shades of deep purple, indigo, and pink clashed against his bright orange-red hair. But in the evening gloom, the sky empty of the moon, everything was muted and dimed, a faded dusky blue in the shadow that aided him in blending into his surroundings as he adjusted to these new powers.

He wavered, coming to a stop at the roof’s edge. Looking down at the streets beneath him, he tried to remind himself that everything was fine—that was a lie. If he, for whatever reason, unexpectedly fell, he knew he wouldn’t be harmed. That theory had been tested more than enough on his first outing as Le Paon. The power of the Miraculous would protect him. And even then, he was Le Paon, and he wouldn’t have to worry about it once he had mastered the power of flight. He would be fine.

At least that’s what he kept telling himself.

The burden of the Miraculous pinned to his cravat weighed heavily upon him. Ever since he had been in possession of the Peacock Miraculous, Nathanael had found that it also came with a strange and unfamiliar sensitivity to the emotions of those around him. Initially, it had been a subtle hum in the back of his mind throughout the day. Sometimes the noise would vanish completely and other times it would grind and pulse irritatingly. But mainly it flared when surrounded by large groups of people. Hawkmoth had explained to him it would continue to grow with each passing day. And even more so this ability increased tenfold while transformed.

He was just starting becoming accustomed to it, being able to decipher what those around him were feeling. What started off mostly as flashes and sounds, that usually left him with a headache, were now being translated into bursts of happiness, shocks of rage, and clouds of sadness.

And now, while he flew through the brisk night he felt it, a myriad of feelings echoing around each corner. The sticky miasma of emotions filled the air, haunting him.

All around him he was bombarded with foreign feelings that were not his own. A flash against his temple signalled someone’s nearby annoyance; a heavy cloud fogged his senses with sleepiness as citizens slept; and a pleasant hum echoed in the back of his throat—if he listened close enough would he be able to hear a song being sung into the night?

He carried on, leaving these thoughts behind him as he further explored the city from his new vantage point. The faster he moved, perhaps the less he would feel.

However that did not seem to be the case. As he ran, he indeed felt them, more and more insights overwhelming his senses. And just as suddenly they burst into flame. His stomach dropped as he stumbled backwards, steadying himself against a nearby wall. Impatience and anger suddenly pricked his skin, and a sluggish, tired, ooze sunk into him at varying intervals, signalling those who were overworked and those already asleep. A cold chill ran through him, and he tasted fear on random people passing by on the streets down below.

It left him feeling nauseous and with a shortness of breath that had nothing to do with his midnight run across the rooftops of Paris. He tried to move forward, to get himself away from the commotion engulfing him, but his body seemed to reject the idea. Instead he tripped. He fell.

Unable to catch himself, he slammed into the rooftop, landing on his hands and knees. He breathed heavily as he tried to remember Hawkmoth’s words, “Let these feeling pass through you.” The mantra wasn’t helpful; he could feel the emotions clashing along his skin, breaking him out into a cold sweat. Sadness and confusion overwhelmed him. Eyes watering, he felt everything too much. It was an itch that was driving him insane. And all of it seemed to come to rest in his throat, drowning him…

“D-detransform me!” he coughed out.

In a flash of blue his costume melted away, leaving Nathanael unmagical and ordinary. Almost immediately he could feel the air rushing back into his lungs. He heaved violently, his body desperate to breathe.

But it wasn’t so easy, detransformed he still felt the lingering claws of emotions stuck to his bones, clinging to him for purchase. Even worse, as he tried to focus, it became apparently clear that the thoughts of panic and anxiety had been his own. Now that his head was a less disturbed, he could recognize his own feelings more clearly. And he didn’t like it.

Beside him on the roof, a small creature collapsed by his hand. Her large pink eyes stared out blankly in front of her. She shuddered violently and wrapped her little body up with her tail, cloaking her as she shifted herself into a little ball of blue. The pink dot on her forehead shrunk until it was almost indiscernible. She lay there still, catatonic.

Her bright pink irises seemed dulled in the evening light, even though they contrasted greatly against the deep blue sclera of her eyes. When Nathanael had first seen her, he had thought she was some sort of demon, her neon eyes flashing at him in the darkness…

And now he saw the same pink-red tinge to his once turquoise blue eyes in every reflection when transformed as Le Paon. He hated it.

Nathanael watched her as he caught his breath. She looked shell-shocked. He blankly wondered if he should say something…had she too been affected? Beneath her tail, her limbs seemed to twitch uncontrollably, making Nathanael immediately feel guilty.

Just as he opened his mouth to apologize, the little creature’s eyes watered, glazing over her demonic eyes with a clear sheen. Her tears soon poured forth, streams of liquid that sparkled and evaporated into glittered mists.

Nathanael had seen her cry many times already, but he was still left in awe as he watched the shimmering twinkle of her tears. He moved, wanting to reach out and offer a hand to comfort her, but he stopped unsure of what to do.

“Are…are you all right?” he tried with a deep whisper that didn’t seem to grab her attention.

Her eyes continued to stare forward, the three little feathers on the back of her head swaying in the wind. In the dark evening her tears lit up the shadows. And the bright scintillation of her tears felt inconsistent to the dour mood surrounding them.

Nathanael tried focusing on her. He was still unsure of how, but he assumed he would be unable have some control, to see if he could get a read on what it was she was feeling.

There was nothing.

“I—I’m sorry,” he continued, clearing his throat.

Her eyes flickered up towards him. She blinked, sending another outpouring of tears down into the air, silver stars glinting and fading into the night, as she looked at him.

Frowning slightly, Nathanael huffed another deep breath, before continuing, “I think that’s the worst it’s ever been…Does it affect you too?”

A single, final tear fell from her eye; she continued staring at Nathanael with the same blank expression.

But Nathanael held her gaze, waiting patiently for a reply. In return, Duusu slowly seemed to respond, her head moved slowly in a weak nod. He could feel a sudden wave of sadness cresting out from her being and it left him feeling lonely and unwanted. The sheen in her eyes increased once more.

Tentatively, Nathanael reached out with his hand, bringing it close, but not quite touching her. Her eyes watched staring between his nearing hand and back to meet his eyes.

After what felt like a few long stretched minutes, she shifted.

Ever so slightly, she shuffled the last few millimeters towards Nathanael’s open palm. Shocked, he was overcome with nervousness, but deep down he felt warmth. It started in his palm and moving slowly up his arm to where it bloomed ever so slightly in his chest. Duusu, in return, closed her eyes, as she softly nuzzled his hand. The pink dot on her forehead grew in synchronicity to the pulsing in Nathanael’s chest, calming him as he sat up. He kept Duusu delicately in his hands and rested himself, seated with his back against the building.

He could feel Duusu dozing in his hand; her own hands began absently roaming through her tail feathers. A simple calm blanketed over them and Nathanael finally felt a bit more whole. He breathed in the night, a cool crisp breeze, and looked up towards the sky. He couldn’t help but notice the colours of the darkening twilight reflected the little creature in his hand. Deep blues, purples, and pinks hazed against the horizon. He tried to memorize his view, already sketching out and painting the colours into his mind.

Together they rested their minds, focusing on this new feeling of friendship? camaraderie? of something—perhaps a silent acceptance of their fate? Whatever it was, it was something that kept Nathanael warm despite the cold wind rustling through his hair and her feathers.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: --rises out of the amazing mountain load of chlonath content-- I LIVE!!! of course what other AU is there for me then BUZZKILL!??!! welcome back and I’m so sorry for the wait!! Hope you enjoy the latest chapter!! 
> 
> Sorry for the lack of chlonath in this one…and on the last day of chlonathweek ;O; !! but im considering this part of my chlonathweek posts, since this series does include the pairing!! and the prompt for today is AU!! Thank you to everyone for your patience and kind words of encouragement! I hope chapter 4 will be a faster update than this one!! ^^


	4. Shattered Mirrors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up can be hard.

This time, it was the feeling of falling that jolted Nathanael awake. The fleeting ghost of memories and dreams bled into nothingness, fading away and fast forgotten. His body was stiff and aching, and his eyes opened wide in panic. Sitting up, he quickly recognized the familiar space of his room even in the darkness. Nearby on his desk, his computer screen cast a cold, blue light. Everything was alien and monsters linger in the shadows.

Nathanael grabbed at his sheets beneath him, quickly aware of an emptiness. It was too quiet.

Something was wrong. Something was missing.

Cold sweat broke across his forehead. Frantically, he patted himself down, searching his pockets. Everything was wrong. He didn't remember getting home or falling asleep and he was wearing his clothes from the day before. His pants feel constricting and his belt digs uncomfortably into his skin.

His hands shook as he opened up his wrinkled jacket, checking for any signs of green or blue. Under his skin, he could feel the flutter of wings, the itch of clicking insects. His skin crawled.

He groaned slightly as each movement pulled uncomfortably at his muscles. But it was not just his body that was sore; his mind was clouded, not helping his confusion. The beat in his temple swelled and an echo of anger passed through him. His head pounded as he began to remember what happened.

_Hawk Moth._

He paused. And the memories slowly came back to him. He reached a hand up to his face and flinched at the sting of pain on his cheek.

_“You feel too much, boy”_

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, remembering the fight, his failure, and the butterflies.

Hawk Moth was right… he did feel too much. And in that moment all he could feel was rage.

It burned. His breath sped up, matching his hurried heartbeat. Each frantic huff of air felt like fire in his throat. It tasted bitter.

Leaning forward, Nathanael rested his forehead against his knees, trying hard to ease his beating heart, but the more he tried, the more his body resisted.

_“You must be in control.”_

He wasn’t.

He was never in control to begin with…

His chest heaved as he gasped repeatedly, trying to catch his breath. It was to no avail, however, as the action only seems to stoke the flames setting his blood to boil.

It wasn’t until he brought his hands up to his face, that he realized he was crying. He smashed his open palms at his eyes, trying in vain to dam the flow of tears as large sobs wracked through his body. Shame, fright, and bitterness bled through him, but above all else, was his anger.

Still above it all, above the turmoil of his mind, Nathanael could also feel sadness. And he knew it wasn’t his.

When he finally looked up, he saw sparkles in the evening light.

 _Duusu_.

A small bundle of blue lay beside him at the foot of the bed. She was shaking, wrapped around the Miraculous, holding it close to her chest.

He grabbed his hair, pulling it away from his face. Rogue tears streamed down his face that he had no control over.

“Duusu,” he whispered.

She shook harder. Her eyes squeezed shut, the pink glow on her forehead almost unnoticeable, just a small dot. And with a weak shake of her head, she wrapped herself tighter around the pin. Her tail feathers blended into its pattern.

He gasped; a flood of melancholy drowned him. Regret, sorrow, pain. He felt it all.

“Duusu,” he repeated, his voice harsher. “Stop it.”

She whimpered.

The sound stabbed him in the gut.

“Stop,” he tried again.

He leaned forward, a hand reaching towards her before he stopped. He stared at the shimmering tears floating through the air. Instead he wiped his own tears from his face, feeling the bruise on his cheek.

_“You must be in control.”_

He tried to breath deeply, to calm himself. It didn’t work.

“I—I don’t want this,” he said quietly, his hands tangled into his hair once more as he rested his elbows on his drawn up knees. “Just make it stop…”

Pink eyes stared at him.

He looked at the Miraculous to which she so desperately clung to. He wanted nothing more than to pick it up and throw it out the window, to smash it to pieces…

But he couldn’t.

He wasn’t strong enough.

He needed those earrings. He needed the ring.

To do that he needed to be stronger, Hawk Moth had made it clear it was his weakness. He needed to be in control, to wield the power he was cursed with.

Another wave of sadness grabbed him, sucking the air from his lungs.

“Duusu, please… if you could just stop,” he said, “I just need… I need—“

He needed quiet.

He needed peace.

He didn’t want this.

His own anger flared once more, trying to overpower Duusu’s sadness.

Tired and sore, he fell backwards, lying down in defeat. He absently grabbed for his phone beside him, checking how long he had to try to sleep until he would have to get ready for school.

He would end this, he told himself over and over as he closed his eyes to another restless sleep. First he would get that comb, then the earrings, the ring…

The vision of a black butterfly flying towards him filled his mind and his hands clenched into fists.

He would get that pin.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE BINCH, GET YOU THOUGHT YOU SAW THE LAST OF ME. 
> 
> I've rewritten this chapter MANY A TIME (IF YOU HAVENT GUESSED FROM HOW LONG IT'S BEEN SINCE IVE UPDATED). Bless anyone still here for this.


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